


Absolution

by alandthatiheardof



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Future Fic, Spanking, post-s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alandthatiheardof/pseuds/alandthatiheardof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He doesn't want to venture back into this sexual territory if she doesn't trust him completely.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> _New one-shot that randomly popped into my head last night and wouldn't leave me alone until it was on the page. This is the dirtiest thing I have ever written but I hope you like it! Let me know what you think._

It's been one year, five months, and three days since he told her the truth and completely shattered her trust in him. It sent her out the door and out of his life.

Seven months, twenty days since he returned to Philly. Annalise sent Bonnie after him, told him he had a lot to make up for but to get back to work.

Seven months, eighteen days since he heard her voice again and saw her beautiful blue eyes. She was picking up a recommendation from Annalise. When she saw him there, she seemed stunned for a moment before making a derisive comment about a brunette intern sitting in the living room. He didn’t like any of the new interns.

Six months, twenty-nine days since they decided to try being friends. She showed up with a bottle of whiskey and told him she needed a drinking buddy. He was more than happy to let her in. He was even happier when they spent the entire night laughing and talking. He didn’t even mind going to work that next morning still drunk and running on no sleep.

Five months, three days since she showed up drunk at his door, practically begging him to make out with her. She was handsy but adorable trying to take off his vest. He gave her his bed and some water before sleeping on the couch.

And five months, two days since he kissed her again, once she was fully sober and assured him it was actually what she wanted.

Also five months, two days since he took her on a date to a nice Italian place where she complained that the sauce wasn't as good as his.

Five months, one day since he cooked dinner for her again, and she teased him about his meatballs. He kissed her, told her he loved her.

Four months, twenty-four days since he made love to her again. He was waiting for her, wanted her to be ready. And when she climbed onto his lap, half way through a movie they weren't watching anyway, he didn’t have any doubts.

And tonight – one year, five months, and three days after he shattered her trust - Laurel has shown up in a short skirt, calling him daddy the moment he shuts the door behind her. He freezes for a second at the unexpected greeting. It's the name she uses for him when they roleplay dominant and submissive. A name that probably, most definitely, turns him on far more than it ever should.

And yeah, he's kept track of every single one of those dates because never in his life has something or someone mattered more to him than Laurel. And he cannot believe that she's taken him back, that she's here. She is the most important thing in his life, and he'll be damned if he ever loses her again, does anything to mess it up.

Tonight, he can't deny what she wants, doesn't want to. It's a big step, though, and they can't just jump into it after everything. They talk for awhile before he tells her to take off her clothes but leave on her panties and bra. She complies easily before following him to the bedroom. She lays on the bed when he tells her to, and he gazes over her perfect body before he joins, sitting next to her. It's several moments before he does anything. She doesn't rush him.

His hands slide up her body and then around her neck, tentatively. He's testing her, giving her a chance to change her mind. They don’t do choking, never did before and he's not starting now. But he needs to make sure that she's actually forgiven him, actually trusts that he will never hurt her. And this is the way to really be sure now that she knows everything, knows what his hands have done. He doesn't want to venture back into this sexual territory if she doesn't trust him completely. That's how this roleplay ends badly, how people get hurt.

He watches her eyes, focuses on her breathing. Any tiny flinch or hitch in her breath, and he'll stop.

He needs a test, too. Because he's spent much of the past year and a half taking a long hard look at himself, at what he did and why he did it. He spent his time away loathing himself, feeling like he deserved to die, almost actually following through with that thought.

Once he admitted out loud to Laurel what he did, he wasn't able to push it down, lock it away, and act as though he hadn't done it anymore. Because he saw in Laurel’s eyes what kind of monster he had become. He's spent the past year and a half dealing with that – still is and probably always will be – and trying somehow to redeem himself to Annalise, to Laurel, to the world. He doesn't want to be that monster. He wants to be who he started out as before he lost his way and let Sam's influence take control, change him.

He's almost not sure he can be the dom anymore, almost pulls his hands back and uses their safeword.

But Laurel looks him in the eye. She doesn't flinch, doesn't blink. She's calm. Her eyes tell him everything. She trusts him completely, trusts that he's not going to hurt her. Would never. He's redeemed himself somehow. In her eyes, at least. She's his salvation, and she's offering absolution.

She nods then, almost imperceptibly, but he catches it. He could tighten his hands right now, play with that, and she would be okay. He doesn't though because that's not a kink for either of them.

Instead, his hands fall away, sliding down her arms until he has both of her wrists. And only then does he give himself over to the character, becomes the dom, and tightens his hold on her wrists. He pulls her arms above her head roughly, though careful enough not to hurt her, and pins them against the pillow.

She whimpers softly, giving herself over to the character too.

“How many, baby?” he asks, speaking finally. His voice is low and dangerous. He looks at her with a warning; he’ll know if she’s lying. Her punishment will be worse if she does. “How many boys touched you while daddy was gone?” he repeats, clarifying, even though she has to know what he's asking. She knows that he gets off on the jealousy.

Frank’s not upset about her being with others, has no right to expect that she waited for a day that may never come. But in this scene, he’ll use the jealousy he feels to make her feel good, too.

“O-one, daddy,” she says, her voice soft and contrite. “But just one time. It wasn’t good,” she tells him.

That’s interesting. “It wasn’t?” he asks curiously, his grip tightening on her wrists as he leans down closer to her. He can feel her straining against his hands, can tell that she wants to lean up and kiss him. She won't though, knows she's not allowed to.

“No, daddy. I mean, it was okay but…” He can see her weighing what she’s about to say, biting softly on her lower lip before she speaks honestly. “I only let him touch me because I wanted to forget you. It didn’t work, though, daddy. You were all I could think about. He didn’t make me feel the way you do, and so, it didn't happen again.”

He narrows his eyes, tightening his grip on her wrists. She holds in a whimper. “Don’t you know by now, baby, that no one will make you feel like I do?” he asks her, the tension in his voice clear. “Especially not the puppy,” he growls.

She didn’t say who it was but she didn’t have to. He can tell from her words, from the fact that she’s barely mentioned Wes since he’s been back. She doesn’t correct him either.

“You know I’m going to have to punish you for letting someone else touch you, don’t you?”

Her eyes grow darker, and he smirks when he hears her soft moan. “What are you going to do to me, daddy?” she asks, her voice the epitome of innocence.

He let’s go of her wrists at that and stands from the bed. He doesn’t say anything at first, instead slowly starts to unbutton his vest, then his shirt. He takes his time, acts almost as if he's forgotten all about her. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her start to sit up and gives her a sharp look.

“Did I say you could move?” he asks, sneering.

She quickly lays back down.  “I’m sorry, daddy.”

“Do that again, and I won’t let you come.” He hides his grin when she pouts. She knows it’s true. Once in the beginning, she kept breaking his rules, being a bratty sub which she knew he didn’t like, and so he followed through, didn’t let her come even after the scene was over. She was never bratty again.

He moves on to his pants, stripping down to his boxers. He’s already hard, straining against the material. But it’s been so long since they’ve done this, and he’s going to savor every moment, really make it last.

He sits in the chair and looks over at her. Patting his knee, he speaks. “Come over here, baby.”

She follows his orders immediately, walking over to him and slowly bending over his knee like the good little sub she is. He chuckles at how eager she seems, watches as she squirms a little like this. He hasn’t touched her, and he knows it’s killing her. She’s never been very patient.

Finally, though, he slowly runs his hand up her back until he reaches the clasp of her bra. He undoes it, and together they remove the material with minimal disruption to their position. He has to suppress a moan when he feels her bare breasts, nipples hard, against his thigh. She doesn't suppress hers.

His hand then slides down her back, looping into the side of her panties. He pulls them half way down her thighs and leaves them there, constricting her movements slightly. He feels her hands on his legs, squeezing in anticipation.

He doesn’t make her wait long for the first contact.

She yelps as his hand sharply smacks against her left cheek and then just rests there for several moments before sliding it down until he comes into contact with her folds. He dips his fingers between her legs, pushes two of them inside her without much warning. She nearly dripping wet already.

“Did he make you this wet?” he asks. She only moans at his question. He pulls out and spanks her again, twice in quick succession. She gasps. “Answer me.”

“I got so wet only because I thought of you.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he warns, slapping her other cheek.

She cries out. “I’m not, daddy. I swear, he wasn’t who I wanted. He didn't make me come.” She whispers the last sentence, so softly, he almost doesn't hear it. His anger with the puppy thrives at this apparent selfishness.

But he pushes that thought out of his head because, really, he’s satisfied with the answer, actually has to stop himself from boasting over the fact. He rubs his hand over the red handprints already starting to form. That's when he feels her ragged breaths against his leg.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice harsh. She turns her head, looking back and up at him as best she can without moving her body. He can see the tears in her eyes, a few tracks starting down her cheeks.

“Talk to me, Laurel,” he says softly, his gaze suddenly tender, as he takes a break from their play. This is new for them again. It’s been so long, and he wants to make sure she’s okay, that it's not too much too soon.

“I’m good, Frank.” She smiles. “Please don’t stop,” she whispers.

“Do you want marks?” he asks. They went over the details at the beginning as the do every time. They reminded each other of the safeword, their limits, and everything but he hadn’t asked her this.

“Yes,” she says simply. He smirks because he knows that she likes marks when she wants to feel like she's his, when she wants to be reminded for days just how dirty she gets for him, and him only.

He nods and reaches up, something shifting in his eyes as he rejoins the scene. He grabs the back of her head and turns it forward.

“Eyes down,” he demands before bringing his hand back down against her bottom, hard. He hears her cry out, jumping forward at the contact. Her side rubs against his hard cock and he groans at the sensation. Placing his hand on her side, he pulls her even closer to him and keeps her there so that she’ll be in contact with his length through this whole interaction. It's almost torture for him but he loves the torture in this, too.

He alternates then several spanks to both cheeks, making sure to hit the same spot over and over. She's crying out, the sound of pain mixing with pleasure. And it is more pleasure than anything; that is very clear. When he pauses for too long she pushes her ass up in the air, silently begging for more. He gives it to her before he dips his hand between her legs and rubs along her folds.

“You’re dripping, baby,” he groans. “I love that you’re such a naughty girl for me," he compliments.

He pushes two fingers inside her, slowly starting to pump them. He hears Laurel’s moans, feels her grinding against his leg, looking for contact with her clit.

“Are you going to be a good girl from now on?” he asks, inserting a third finger.

“Yes. Please, daddy,” she moans out. He thrust his fingers harder, deeper inside her, stretching and testing her.

“Say it,” he warns.

“I’ll be a good girl. Only let you touch me,” she manages to get out between sharp breaths and soft moans. He continues, until he's sure she's on the brink.

And just as she is, he pulls out his fingers and smirks when she cries at the loss of contact. He won't make her wait much longer. He knows he can't either. He's almost painfully hard.

“Good… Get on the bed,” he tells her, pushing her panties off her legs as he helps her stand. “On your hands and knees.”

He licks his fingers as she moves, savors the taste of her.

He can see the red welts forming on her behind as she follows his instruction. He doesn’t want her laying on her back because he knows that it will hurt right now and not necessarily in a good way.

He just watches her for a few moments as she stays still in her new position, open and wet and waiting for him. He loves making her wait for him. He takes off his boxers carefully, almost sighs in relief as he frees himself.

“Do you know what good girls get, baby?” he asks her, the mattress dipping as he gets on his knees behind her.

“Do they get to come, daddy?” she asks, looking back over her shoulder. Her face is pure innocence but her eyes hold a challenge, a plea.

“They do. Very good," he tells her, sliding his finger through her folds once more soaking it easily. He leans over her, his body exerting just the slightest pressure against hers.

He holds out his finger. "Taste yourself, baby. Taste how wet you get for daddy."

She licks her lips before taking his finger in her mouth sucking on it and using her tongue in the way she would if it were his cock between her lips. He holds back a groan, mentally debates if he wants to do just that. He decides to save it for another day though because tonight, he just wants to be inside her.

"Good girl," he murmurs, pulling his finger away as he straightens up.

He grabs her hips and pulls her bottom back against his body, his hard length.

"Did you miss this?" he asks. She only moans.

He pulls away, prompting her. "Yes daddy, please. Please, don't stop."

"I won't, baby. Daddy's missed this too," he admits. Keeping one hand on her hip, he uses the other to guide his cock to her entrance. He teases her folds for a moment before entering her completely without warning, in one swift motion, and burying himself to the hilt. She cries out then, and he feels her walls tighten around him, causing his own moans. He watches how she reacts, how she grabs the bedspread in her fists, squeezing tightly

“Baby, you feel so good,” he tells her. She moans in agreement, pushing back against him, wanting more.

He pulls out again, almost all the way before slamming back in. He repeats that motion a few times, listening to her moans with each thrust before he establishes a steady rhythm, his hands gripping her hips and pulling her back against him as he starts fucking her. It's hard and fast and deep and rougher than it would normally be if they weren't in a scene. The room is filled with her moans, his groans, skin slapping against skin, his headboard hitting the wall… The sounds add an extra layer, makes all of this more depraved, even hotter.

It doesn’t take long for her walls to flutter around him, for her to cry out with her orgasm. She’s been so wet and ready for him that he’s not surprised.

He doesn’t give in, though. He continues to thrust inside her with long, hard strokes as one hand slides around her hip and between her legs, easily finding her clit.

He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves roughly, doesn’t let up even as she’s almost begging him. Her moans get louder, her cries more primal, until he's coaxing a second orgasm out of her. This time, it is too much for him. He feels her tighten around him, and he calls out “baby” – it’s never Laurel in these scenes – before he releases in long, hot spurts inside her, coming harder than he has in a long time.

They both collapse forward then, and Frank uses his arms to try and keep most of his weight off of her. He kisses along her upper back, holding her for a few moments.

It’s always been easy for him to snap out of these scenes and out of his role but he knows that Laurel needs a few more minutes, that she likes to just have him close afterward. And he’s more than happy to give her that.

“You okay?” he whispers after several moments when their breathing starts to even out. She just nods and turns her head towards him. He takes her in: her hair is a mess, her mascara has run down her cheeks, her face is flushed. She looks thoroughly fucked, and damn if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

“Don’t move,” he says gently, kissing her cheek and pulling out of her. He pads to the bathroom, picking up his boxers along the way. He quickly cleans up and puts his boxers back on before grabbing some lotion and returning to the bed.

He sits down next to her, she hasn’t moved, is still trying to catch her breath, get her bearings. He squirts some lotion into his hands and rubs them together before gently gliding them over her bottom and the marks that he made. He hears her sharp intake of breath at the first touch before she relaxes and lets out a sigh as the lotion soothes the sting, the burning that’s left behind. As much as he loves the scene, the roleplaying, he loves the aftercare too. He loves taking care of her and making sure that she’s good after things get intense.

Tonight was relatively tame for them, and he thinks it will be for a while when they do this. They have to get back into it, make sure they are both good with going harder before taking it to new heights.

He moves his hands up her back then, gently massaging her muscles, smiling when he hears her content sighs. Leaning down, he ghosts his lips over her skin as his hands move to her shoulders. He worships her body as she lays there coming back to herself.

When he’s sure that she's ready, he lays next to her and she rolls over on her side to face him. He leans in, kisses her gently. She smiles when he pulls away.

“I love you, Frank,” she whispers softly. He smiles, too.

One year, five months and three days but she's said it back. Finally.


End file.
